


Foundation

by lalalindsey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s14e07 Unhuman Nature, Gen, Post-Episode: s14e07 Unhuman Nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalindsey/pseuds/lalalindsey
Summary: Dean couldn’t imagine a worse time to be feeling less than himself.[Post Unhuman Nature ficlet]





	Foundation

**Author's Note:**

> Make Michael!Dean the main storyline you cowards

Dean couldn’t imagine a worse time to be feeling less than himself. With Jack on the brink of death, they were all doing everything they could to keep it together. None of them had expected to become so damn attached to the kid, but here they were, walking on eggshells and trying to avoid the fact that they would all soon be losing a son. It hurt to recall how little trust he had placed in the kid from the start, how many threats he had heaped upon him without thought. Much as he tried to make it up to Jack, Dean knew his guilt was apparent. It went without saying. In fact, a lot of things went without saying. 

For the kid, for Cas, but mostly for Sammy and his grief-lined eyes, Dean had decided his own problems were certainly not the highest on their growing list. Placing yet another weight on Sam’s already heavy shoulders was out of the question. But as the days wore on it became harder to ignore his dizzy spells, his inability to focus, the sudden sharp, invasive pains in his head. He couldn’t quite place it, but one thing was certain- something, somehow, felt very wrong. He was sure the pain showed in his eyes, but Sam, who could normally sense Dean struggling by nature, was swimming in worry, and the last thing Dean wanted to do was drown him in it. 

By the following week, however, his condition had worsened significantly. He was losing large chunks of conversations, often unable to discern what he was doing in the moment. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the façade before the others caught on. That was how he found himself, against his better judgment, pausing outside Sam’s door one evening with the world fading around him once again, desperate for something to ground him to himself, trying to force his feet to continue on past, until a soft "Dean?" stopped him in his tracks. 

Dean closed his eyes briefly. How could he have been so stupid? He couldn’t tell Sam. But the pain behind his eyes spiked again, and before he could respond, Sam was at his side, concern in his eyes, mouth forming Dean’s name over and over. Focus briefly returned and Dean heard Sam’s voice more clearly. 

"What’s wrong?" he said urgently. "Dean, tell me what’s going on." 

As Sam maneuvered him to the bed, Dean struggled to find the words. "I-" he swallowed and closed his eyes. Sam sat beside him and began frantically checking his pulse, his breathing. 

"I don’t know," Dean said finally. "I don’t know what it is, but- something’s _wrong_ , Sam." 

Sam’s hands paused slowly in their searching. "Okay…okay," he breathed, "Wrong like how?" Dean shook his head. There was no way he could explain even to himself what was happening to him. 

But Sam, face drawn with worry, pleaded, "Give me something here, Dean. Please." 

Dean sighed. 

"Sometimes-" he began "Sometimes I just don’t feel _here_ , you know? I can’t explain it but I feel like I get…pulled away…somewhere else. Or like something’s hackin’ it’s way into my head." 

Sam frowned. "How long has it been like this?" 

Dean looked away guiltily.

"A while," he muttered. 

"Dammit, Dean," Sam growled "You can’t just hide something like this, especially not after-" he ran his fingers through his hair, regaining his composure. 

"Is it happening now?" he asked quietly. 

Dean nodded mutely and Sam’s heart sank. 

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked more gently. 

Dean shrugged. "Jack," he said "Being the way he is…that’s more important. I didn’t want you worryin’ about me too on top of it." 

Sam shook his head. "You know that doesn’t change anything." Dean shrugged again and they were both quiet for a moment. 

Finally Sam spoke. "Do you think it’s Michael?" he whispered. 

"Maybe," Dean replied, rubbing his forehead. "The pain feels- like him." Sam nodded. 

"I don’t think he’s gone Sam, not really. And I’m not- I’m not ready for what he’s gonna do with me when he comes back." 

Sam cleared his throat shakily. "I know," he said. 

A silence of mutual memory and pain fell once again. At last Dean met Sam’s eyes.

"Sammy, I’m sorry," he said. "I shouldn’t have put this on you, not now." 

"No," said Sam quietly, fiercely. "Don’t apologize for that. You know this is just as important to me. To all of us." 

Dean looked down and smirked. "Yeah," he said gruffly.

Sam eyed him. "You still feel it?" he asked. Dean’s hesitation told him all he needed to know, and he reached for Dean’s hand. Pressing his thumb into the calloused palm of his hand, Sam smiled briefly at the memory of Dean having once done the same for him. 

He met Dean’s eyes. "Stone number one, right?" he said, squeezing gently. 

Dean swallowed and nodded, his strength returning to him slowly as he felt the grip of Sam’s hand grounding him. 

"Right," he said. A lot of things still felt wrong. Maybe they always would. But this, at least- this was something solid, something true. He let out a slow breath. Okay, okay. He could do this. _They_ could do this. 

"Right."

**Author's Note:**

> I know that the issues Dean had in this episode will eventually become very important. I just wanted someone to notice...earlier.


End file.
